


Rest Is For The Wicked

by Sorbus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: As IC as I can make it, De-aging, Elf!Severus, Elves, Gen, Guy can't get a break, Legolas' obliviousness, Maybe some fighting though, No pairings whatsoever, No real warnings, Snarky Severus, Species Change, Thrown into another dimension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-06-09 17:00:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6915604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sorbus/pseuds/Sorbus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It burned, oh it burned, like molten lava had been forced into his mouth and made to be swallowed, but it was a cathartic pain that stopped his brain from really realising his throat was ripped open and torn to shreds. </p><p>So with one last ragged inhale, Severus Snape departed this world–</p><p>And jolted upright, gasping desperately with new life running through his veins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dying was different than what he’d imagined it to be. It was probably better than way, because Severus was nothing if not both unbearably realistic and decidedly morbid. Thus far, any end he could imagine for himself concluded in a flash of green light after days and days of torture under the Dark Lord’s wand – having finally been found out as a traitor to the cause.

Ironic then, that it was a supposed act of loyalty to the Dark – killing Dumbledore – that had brought him this end. Severus would have snorted, if he could get it past the gurgle of blood choking up his throat. It was just his luck. And people wondered by he was so bitter.

Nagini’s venom worked fast – Severus was sure the Dark Lord had changed it to work so, after the whole failure that was Arthur Weasley – and it was surprisingly peaceful. It burned, oh it _burned,_ like molten lava had been forced into his mouth and made to be swallowed, but it was a cathartic pain that stopped his brain from really realising his throat was ripped open and torn to shreds.

All he had left was the steady burn in his neck, his darkening vision and the peacefulness of knowing he was far, far away from the muted shouting he could hear in the distance. It was a cold, lonely death – with no one to see him off, just as he had imagined. While he would have liked if the Potter boy had stayed, for all that he loathed the visage of James Potter staring back at him – as if to continue to torment him even after the bugger had died – Severus would have liked to stare into the pure, beautiful _green_ of Lily’s eyes as he passed. So with one last ragged inhale, Severus Snape departed this world–

And jolted upright, gasping desperately with new life running through his veins.

– x –

The sun beat down upon him, and clouds lazily drifted in the blue sky. Grasslands stretched out seemingly endlessly around him, and for a moment Severus wondered if this was all there was to the afterlife. But the potions master was nothing if not observant, and already his keen eyesight picked up the numerous imperfections within the scene. Cracked and disturbed dirt – as if feet had gouged their way through it; large patched of less than healthy grass; greying clouds surrounding the mountains in the backdrop. A number of things that came together to show that whatever Severus was seeing was depressingly real.

Immediately, his mind went into overdrive. He had done no spectacular, life saving magic before falling unconscious. Neither had he recalled anyone else coming near him to do the same. Where had he been transported, and who had done it? Had he simply been healed – and then dumped, unceremoniously in the marshes, exiled for his crimes? No, he was sure the wizarding public would delight in sending him to Azkaban had he survived, whether he had been a spy for the Light or not. They were all like children: mindless, bloodthirsty little demons.

Regardless, this, this was _not_ supposed to happen. Severus was no fool; he did not tempt himself by delving into the arts of life and death. But he was sure there was an afterlife – he had been with Albus leading up to the old man’s death, and he saw the Headmaster’s obsession with the ring and heard him speak to whatever apparition came out of it. Albus Dumbledore was no fool, he had been desperate, yes, but if he was convinced that whoever he spoke to was a true spirit of the dead then Severus was inclined to believe him. And of course, he knew wizards had a soul – the Dark lord had proved that, at least. And so really, he should not be alive – which he undoubtedly was, encased in uncomfortable flesh that itched and ached in ways that only could come from living and breathing. Severus had no idea what consisting only of a soul would be like (though secretly, he imagined being reunited in death with the one person he ever felt for), but it certainly wasn’t this.

Distantly, he could hear his breathing become quicker and shallower, and the beginnings of panic edged upon his mind. Ruthlessly, he clamped down upon it, though it was far more difficult than usual. He could not afford to lose himself in panic or despair right then. He had to establish what had happened, figure out his response, and assess the best route to go from there.

Mind organised, he hefted himself into his feet, making sure to keep an eye upon the surroundings the entire time, lest someone sneak upon him. He had barely stood upright, taking one wobbly step before his legs faltered, his knees buckles and Severus Snape fell flat onto his face.

“What-?”

The dour man sighed, glancing down to figure out whatever unpleasantly surprising injury had caused his fall. He was prepared for a number of things – more evidence of Nagini’s attack, a broken bone, heavy bruising. What he was not prepared for were two knobbly legs splayed awkwardly upon the grass, short, awkward and unmistakably belonging to a _child_.

Letting his head fall back onto the grass, Severus let out a groan. This? This was Potter level trouble.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad luck abound.

It takes his three hours to get the hang of walking again, and even then he is barely competent at it. In a bizarre sense of role reversal, Severus feels like one of the absolute incompetent brats that have plagued his many years as a teacher. Humans relied upon muscle memory far more than he was aware. Who knew that learning could be so frustratingly difficult?

Of course this revelation does not in any way absolve anyone from being able to make at least one basic potion. The professor's mind instantly went to the walking disaster that was Longbottom, before he dismissed the thought with a shudder.

(Longbottom was a person he hoped would never reproduce, if only to save future potion professors the trouble.)

Of course, Severus Snape would not be himself if he ever was resigned to incompetency. After a gruelling amount of time attempting to stay upright and still, the managed to make progress in the simple task of putting one foot in front of the other. If he happened to be a little bow-legged as he did so, well there was nobody around to comment upon that, was there?

Yet with this achievement out of the way, Severus had the daunting task of deciding what next to do in the strange place he had awoken to. First on the list was assuring his own health – and while there was in no way anything _right_ with his current body, it was healthy at least, which was more than he could say when he actually was a child. Now that he could affirm its functionality, he had to determine how to achieve the next few goals he had set himself.

One, determined when and where he was.

Two, was entirely dependent upon one.

And three, find some way to kill Harry Potter. There was no proof – as if there ever was– that the infernal brat had anything to do with his mysterious relocation, but it was a known fact that anything that could possibly go wrong _would_ go wrong in regards to the messy haired twit. It was practically a universal law at this point – the Potter Proclamation. So of course, instead of dying like an average person would do – as he was _wont_ to do – Severus was alive and very reluctantly kicking, and it had to in some way have to do with the boy that he’d last seen before kicking the metaphorical bucket.

Alas, there was no bucket kicking to be done there. For all that Severus had thought his life expired, with nothing else for him to do in the world, he was not suicidal in the slightest. Having his life taken from his for a cause was vastly different to wasting it in misery. Though this mentality meant he’d have to complete step one and get on with his survival.

Walking it was. Oh joy.

– x –

There were many things that Severus hated in life. Idiots, hot weather, _Potter_ , and now the entire notion of being outside.

Whatever godforsaken being had dropped him in the middle of a wasteland should be scared if he ever was in reach of Severus’ tiny, angry fists. For all that he could see for miles and miles around him was _grass_. Stupidly yellow grass and stupidly clear skies with the stupid sun beating down upon him. The potions master wasn’t one to swear – for it was uncouth and lacked any sort of wit – but in his hearts of hearts he was cursing up a storm of obscenity.

Through some sort of divine intervention, he’d found tracks belonging to some sort of wagon smack bang in the middle of nowhere. Maybe it was the Potter luck rubbing off on him – maybe the entire thing was a grand set-up – but without any other choice, Severus decided to follow them.

A while later, and he was already regretting the decision. Although he arrived fully clothed in what he was wearing last – and thank God for small mercies – his footwear was far too large to fit, and quite frankly, more of a safety hazard than anything else. Given that his wand did not travel with him, because God forbid he have anything so useful on hand, and that he wasn’t yet skilled enough in wandless magic for proper transfiguration, Severus had to make due with ripped strips of cloth tied around his feet as any sort of protection against the elements. The soles of his feet were adamantly protesting this abuse.

The dour-faced man ( _boy_ ) grimaced, peering off into the distance in some futile attempt at finding whoever left the tracks in the first place. Given that they had a wagon, they were probably long gone and he’d be stuck to wither and die alone in the stupid grass.

But no, a shadow upon the horizon graced his sight. Disbelieving, the potions master blinked once, twice and then a third time before affirming that yes, that was a wagon he was seeing, and yes, it had stopped for a break. It appeared his luck was looking up.

Quickly – because if they left before he’d caught up, Severus was going to _maul_ something – the now-child ran ahead. They were a lot farther than he had predicted – was his eyesight always that good? – but thank some deity above, they had remained stationary the entire time he huffed and puffed after them. Maybe ten meters away from the camp – for now it was evident that was what he had come across – Severus spoke up.

“Greetings,” he started, trying to use his nicest voice possible – which for Severus, was still barely passable as ‘polite’. "I don’t suppose you are amenable to some information exchange?”

But of course, given his rotten luck, he was met with the very sharp, very pointed tip of an axe.

_Oh for God’s sake._

**Author's Note:**

> Hey hey. I've seen a lot of baby elf Harry going around, and while it is very fun, I'd love to see it happen to someone who wasn't hugged as a child but doesn't need it anyway. A middle aged Snape faced with mother hen elves would be hilarious, especially if he loses none of his sarcastic wit. The growth rate for elves here is 4 times slower than humans, mostly because of what I imagine Snape's age to be (41) and that I don't want him to be too young a child, and entirely helpless. It would ruin the plot haha.
> 
> It's also more book verse than movie. Although I've only read The Hobbit and the LOTR series, so if you have massive amounts of Tolkien lore, I am sorry.


End file.
